


Losing Grip

by TheSmileILiveFor (MissCordayLewis)



Category: Fleetwood Mac (Band)
Genre: Angst, Drug Use, F/F, Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-06
Updated: 2013-12-06
Packaged: 2018-01-03 16:06:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 300
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1072443
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MissCordayLewis/pseuds/TheSmileILiveFor
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>All Christine knew was that this wasn't just another trip to the fantasy land.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Losing Grip

Christine couldn't help but notice how Stevie seemed so out of it for the past few weeks, even months. No, it wasn't just the weight gain, or the glassy look in her eyes, or even her sluggish movements on and off stage.

But all she knew was that this wasn't just another trip to fantasy land.

She tried talking, bribery, even threats of kicking her out if Stevie doesn't set herself straight, but she’s hit a brick wall, and nothing has changed. Combine that with the immense pressure of having to take the lead over the whole thing.

She paced the aisles of their plane with her glass of champagne when she heard muffled sobs on the extreme end. She followed the direction of the sound to find Stevie curled in a fetal position on the plush airplane seat.

Christine sat beside her and reached an arm out towards her but Stevie swatted it away. “Nobody fucking touch me.”

Her attention turned to the bottle of pills on the table. She picked it up and read the label, her fingers tracing the words Klonopin on it.

She felt the rising urge to slap Stevie and scream for her to realize what she’s doing to herself and return back to her senses, but deep down she knew that it would just make things worse. After finishing the last of her champagne, she guided Stevie closer and let her rest her head on her thighs. Her chest ached upon seeing her like this, but she couldn't really do anything else but stroke Stevie’s hair.

Stevie clung to Christine’s leg for dear life, her eyeliner running down with her tears. “I can’t do this anymore. I just wanna go home.”

“Let’s just finish this tour, Stevie. If you’re going, I’m going with you.”


End file.
